Matchmaker 11: November

I nodded and made a mental note to avoid discussing my occupation as much as possible because it was a minefield. "That's my bag," I said, pointing to my black, hard-sided Samsonite I'd bought just for his trip.

He grabbed the bag and hefted it off the conveyor with apparent ease, even though it took both hands for me to lift it over curbs and such. "Anything else?"

"No, that's it."

He led me to the parking deck and a white Chevy Tahoe. I refrained from grimacing. He's a billionaire and he drove a Chevy. Even I drove an BMW, and I was nowhere as rich as he was. He chunked my case into the back as I settled into the SUV. The vehicle was surprisingly nice inside, much better than I would have thought.

He removed his jacket and tossed it into the backseat before hitching himself in behind the wheel. I licked my lips slowly. Without his coat on I could finally get a good look at him, and Goddamn was he built. Unless he was a two-pump chump or something, I wouldn't need the pool boy.

"You want to take your coat off?" he asked as he started the SUV and reached over to turn on my seat heater. "We have a two-hour drive ahead of us."

"Two hours?" I blurted before I could stop myself. "Where are we going, Canada?" I asked in a teasing tone. Duluth was bad enough, but two hours farther into the wilderness we could get eaten by bears... and there may not be any indoor plumbing.

He chuckled. "Close, but no. I've rented a cabin outside Ely."

"Ooh, romantic," I purred even though the place probably didn't hadn't have cell service or internet.

"I thought you might like it."

I forced a smiled. It could be worse. I'd already planned on fucking him stupid this entire month to set the hook, but with the way he looked, I could think of worse ways to pass the time.

After I removed my coat, we left the airport and were immediately in the middle of nowhere. As he drove, I forced myself to keep up my end of the conversation to come across as excited to join him on this grand adventure. I just hoped the place had running water and an indoor toilet.

The drive took forever, and I had to fake my enthusiasm, but at least the landscape was beautiful in a stark way, a few flakes of snow falling as the Chevy raced north along Highway 125 and 21, roads with absolutely nothing around except more nothingness. When we finally arrived in Ely, my heart sank. It looked exactly like I imagined Hicksville would, with mud splattered trucks and old, run down stores everywhere I looked. There probably wasn't a Starbucks closer than Duluth, and I forced myself to not groan. He made a left, and almost immediately we were once again in the boonies. I prayed there was more to Ely than what I'd seen because what I'd seen was totally depressing.

We drove for another thirty minutes before we turned off the pavement onto a gravel road, the Tahoe jittering and shaking its way down the road as rocks pinged and thocked off the vehicle. I hadn't seen a house in miles, and I wondered if this cabin we were heading for was a tent, or maybe a shelter made from brush piled against a tree.

The road ended at well-landscaped grounds with a stunningly beautiful log cabin on the edge of the lake. The sun was setting over the lake, but the house was blazing with light. "This is it?" I asked, feeling a little sheepish.

"This is it."

"Yours?"

"No. Brooklyn arranged for us to use it."

He pulled the SUV into the garage, and as the door rumbled down, I opened my door and stepped out. He hefted my bag out of the back, and I followed him into the kitchen.

The moment I stepped into the room, I could tell the place was magnificent. He led me through the kitchen into the massive main room. The ceiling soared high overhead, supported by massive and intricate woodwork, with windows that overlooked the lake rising to the peak. There was loft over the kitchen that overlooked the room below that gave full view of the lake.

"The bedrooms are upstairs," he said, leading me to the stairs.

The stairs opened on the loft, a small open area with comfortable furniture, the room clearly designed for a little privacy from the room below. Off the loft were three huge bedrooms, two with a commanding view of the lake, the third overlooking the surrounding forest.

"I'm in this room," he said, pausing in front of a door. "Which room do you want?"

I smiled as I stepped past him into his room, taking his hand and drawing him in with me. "This one will do just fine," I breathed as I stretched up for a kiss.

I swam up from the depths of sleep and looked at Sage with a languorous stretch and a near silent yawn as she slept on her back beside me. Her head was tilted slightly toward me with her hair in total disarray as she breathed deep and slow in soft sighs.

She was a stunningly beautiful woman, with light brown hair worn shoulder length, large dark eyes, and a cute little nose. Her round face matched the rest of her figure, and she appeared to be about my age. While guys who liked rail thin super-model types might consider her a little thick, I liked a woman with some curves, not women who looked like they'd just escaped from a concentration camp, and Sage had curves in all the right places. Best of all, she looked like a woman who would enjoy herself without worrying about her figure all the time. There were few things more off-putting to me than having a date staring at my plate like a ravenous wolf while eating a celery stick.

While Sage was almost perfect physically, I wasn't as sure about her in other ways. She'd tried to take me to bed the moment we arrived at the cabin. I enjoyed partaking in the physical pleasure of a woman as much as any man, but I'd met her only two hours earlier and didn't want to treat her like a one-night stand. I wasn't hung up on gender roles and all that other crap, but having her come on so strong was a little disturbing . I was used to pursuing, not being pursued, and I think I might have hurt her feelings a little. When I'd tried to slow her down, she started apologizing profusely and I'd spent the next thirty minutes calming her down and assuring her I didn't think she was a slut.

After I convinced her I wasn't upset and didn't think she was a whore, we'd tried to work through dinner preparation. The only meals I prepared were breakfast because, one, it was hard to screw up eggs, sausage, and toast, and two, I had a cook who came in twice a week to prepare all my other meals. All I had to do was follow the directions she left on the lids and pop the prepared dishes in the oven or microwave. Sage was even worse, claiming she never cooked, having Starbucks for breakfast, and whatever she was in the mood for delivered for lunch and dinner.

I figured I could follow a recipe, but with no cell service and no internet, I couldn't even do that. So we'd winged it. Using what I'd seen Carol, my chef, do as a guide, I thought the baked porkchops and buttered potatoes were pretty good, especially considering I had only the most rudimentary idea of what I was doing. I'd initially liked the idea of being disconnected from the world, but last night made it clear there were downsides to it as well. Maybe I'd ask around in Ely to see if one of the local ladies would like to earn some cash on the side by providing meals, or maybe we would pick up a cookbook somewhere and spend this month learning to cook together.

After we'd cleaned up, which took longer than expected because I made a much larger mess than I should have, we'd settled in front of the fireplace, spoke in quiet voices, and watched it snow as we sipped a brandy. She was distant, perhaps still smarting from my rejection earlier, and I felt bad for how she took what I'd intended to be a gentlemanly act. I didn't want her to think I'd purchased her for the month and she was somehow obligated to provide... services.

When it was time for bed, I'd taken her hand and slowly towed her upstairs and into my bedroom. It'd taken a little work to thaw her, but once she did, she was by far the most aggressive lover I'd ever taken. She clearly liked it loud and rough, so rough a couple of times I worried that I'd hurt her, but the harder I used her the more she seemed to enjoy it. After we tumbled about the bed for an hour or so, crying out in pleasure and demanding ever more from each other, we'd fallen into an exhausted sleep. I was sleeping the sleep of the truly well satisfied when she woke me a few hours later, and we again went at it like wild animals for another hour or so, crying out in pleasure and challenge, before we'd once again tumbled into exhausted, sweaty sleep.

Moving as slowly as I could so to not wake her, I gradually removed myself from the bed, showered, and went downstairs. Confident in my breakfast culinary skills, I whipped up a three-egg omelet loaded with chopped green and red peppers, onion, chunks of sausage, and plenty of cheese, along with four toast triangles on the side. Eating my breakfast as I prepared hers, I squeezed fresh orange juice, poured a large mug of strong black coffee, added small containers of sugar and cream, and carried the feast up to the room on a serving tray.

I smiled in satisfaction as I entered the room. She hadn't moved since I woke up. She'd tried to ride me into unconsciousness twice last night, but it appeared I gave as good as I got. I placed the tray on the floor and lightly kissed her on the lips until she started coming around.

As she woke up, her kissing became more aggressive, her tongue probing and trying to force its way into my mouth while her arms went around my neck to draw me into the kiss. I refused to take the offer she was making and slowly withdrew from the kiss.

"I want you," she purred, her voice dripping sex and promise. "I want to feel you inside me."

I smiled and touched her lightly on the lips. "Later. Breakfast first."

"I want you for breakfast."

"Too late. I already made yours," I said as I picked up the tray and placed it over her lap.

Her eyes flicked over the tray as she slid up in bed and propped against the headboard. "You made this? I thought you said you couldn't cook."

I smiled. "This is the extent of my abilities. After you eat, we'll run into Duluth and pick you up some more clothes and a couple of cookbooks."

"That's two hours away!"

I nodded. "Yeah, I know, but I think we'll have a much better selection than in Ely, don't you?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but then she smiled. I'd seen that look a couple of times yesterday, but I couldn't figure out what it meant, if anything. It was almost as if she were annoyed about something, but the looks disappeared as quickly as they arrived, and she never complained.

"Probably. We can grab something for lunch while we're there, maybe dinner too, so you don't have to cook all the time."

I shrugged. "I don't mind, and I like learning new things. I enjoyed trying to figure out something to eat last night. It was like a puzzle, and I enjoy those."

She cut a piece of the omelet and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes opened wider as her chewing slowed. She pointed at the eggs with her fork. "This is really good. So, you're a great cook and an even better fuck. I might just have to marry you."

For reasons I couldn't easily explain, her remark annoyed me. I wasn't a puritan, and there were times I used harsh language, but I guarded my words around others and didn't play the word substitution game. If I wanted to say damn, I did, not darn, but I believed if I couldn't adequately express myself without resorting to swearing, I needed to work on my vocabulary. While I would occasionally use one of the mild swear words, like damn or hell, it was more rare and I had to be upset before I used the harsher words like shit or pissed. I never used sexually explicit words outside the throes of passion, and even then, I made sure my lover wouldn't be upset by their use before I did.

"Thanks," I said, being careful to keep my tone and face pleasant. It was my choice to keep my language relatively clean and not my place to try to force my views on anyone else.

"Aren't you eating?" She smiled slyly. "If you're not hungry for eggs, I can think of something else for you to eat."

"I already did."

She took another bite of her breakfast as she smiled. "Yes you did, three times, and with great enthusiasm, I might add."

I chuckled as I rose. I'd meant I'd had my own eggs, but she was right. I'd enjoyed making her wail in pleasure. She might have a bit of a potty mouth, but that didn't mean she wasn't funny. I kissed her quickly on the lips.

"Finish up and then get your shower. I'm going to tidy the kitchen while you finish so we'll be ready to go when you're done."

"You sure you don't want to come back to bed? I might still be hungry."

I grinned. "Tempting offer. Very tempting, but you need some clothes and—"

"Not if you'll come back to bed," she purred, talking over me.

I paused as I snickered. She was trying to lead me around by my manhood. As much as I might enjoy it, I wasn't going to let her use my carnal desires to twist me around her little finger. "You need some clothes, and I think I'll pick up a couple of cookbooks while we're there so I'll have a better idea of what I'm doing."

"I think you already have a good idea of what you're doing," she cooed, more being said by her tone than her words.

"Cooking, Sage. Cooking," I replied with a smile.

"Oh... that."

I smiled as I paid for her boots, the last item on our shopping list. She had expensive tastes and clearly preferred what I thought of as partywear. I let her select a few dresses, but I didn't see any reason to let her fill her closet with clothing that was totally impractical for where we were staying. Ely probably had a bar or two, but her party dresses would be as out of place there as they would be strolling through the woods.

As she shopped, I got a little of her backstory. She was a Chicago native and had lived in the city her entire life, attending the University of Chicago for a degree in history before moving into their law program. She knew what she wanted and was driven to get it, doing what she had to and letting nothing stand in her way, which was something I respected and admired.

I couldn't fault her for her clothing selections. She was one of those people who'd never set foot outside a large city and probably thought of Peoria as the wilderness. So I let her have a couple of her party dresses but then suggested she pick items more suitable for our location and situation. I think she wanted to pout, but she quickly recovered. I had to smile as I helped her select items since she clearly had no idea what she was doing, still choosing items more for their style than for their comfort, durability, and suitability of purpose.

"I think that's it," I said as I escorted her back to the Tahoe.

"I guess," she said, but judging by her tone, she didn't sound very happy.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just wondering what we'll do for a month."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "You had some very clear ideas on that last night." No one was in our immediate vicinity, but I pitched my voice lower anyway to reduce the chance of being overheard. "You said, and I quote, 'Oh God, please don't stop fucking me...' end quote," I rumbled, putting as much teasing promise in my tone as I could.

She snickered. "I did not!"

"Did to."

Her smile spread even wider. "Did not!" she growled.

"Did to. Want to say it again tonight?"

She looked away, still beaming, before she brought her gaze back to mine. "I might. Think you're up to it?"

"If I did it once, I don't see why I can't do it again."

"Uh-huh," she grunted with a teasing grin as I tossed her boots into the back of the SUV, adding them to the rest of her new clothes.

I glanced at my watch. It was approaching four. "Since it seems like I've got some hard work ahead of me tonight," I began, pausing as she giggled at my choice of words, "want to grab something to eat? I need to keep my strength up."

"Hard work is right, and your strength isn't all I want you to keep up," she countered, her smile broad and her eyes merry. "So yeah, I wouldn't mind grabbing something and then eating it." She glanced around dramatically. I knew instinctively something more was coming. "But this is a little public, so I guess some food will have to do."

I pulled her to me and kissed her quickly on the lips. "Anyplace you want to try?"

"I don't know. Do you think anyone will notice us in the car?"

I rolled my eyes as I grinned. "I meant to eat."

"So did I."

"Food."

"Oh," she grunted as if disappointed but smiled again. "What do they have around here?"

"I have no idea, but you can figure it out while I drive."

She nodded and I followed her around to her side and opened the door for her. Yesterday I was dealing with her luggage and didn't have a chance to open her door for her at the airport, and when we arrived at the cabin, she'd opened her own door before I could do it. When I opened the SUV's door for her this morning, I think she was actually surprised, something I found slightly amusing. She still didn't wait for me to open her door for her to exit the SUV, but she was letting me open her door to enter.

As I drove, she used her phone to search the internet for local restaurants, read reviews, and made suggestions. We finally settled on a well-regarded local restaurant on Lake Superior.

We enjoyed a leisurely dinner of sea bass and rack of lamb along with an excellent wine. The food was good, the conversation was great, but the view was better still, both of one of the world's largest freshwater lakes beyond the window and an equally stunning view across the table. I smiled over the rim of my glass. When I was interviewing with Brooklyn, she said when I first saw my companion, I should think she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Brooklyn had chosen well, and hadn't been wrong.

"What?"

I couldn't prevent my smile from spreading. "Just admiring the view."

She glanced out of the window, the twilight making the lake more beautiful, but it couldn't rival the vision sitting across the table from me. "It is beautiful."

"Very," I said softly, my gaze never wavering from her.

She smiled at me. "You don't have to keep buttering me up. You're going to get laid tonight," she replied, her voice so soft I could barely make out her words, but I still heard the promise.

I grinned at the prospect of enjoying her body, but tonight I wanted to slow her down so we could savor the experience and not engage in another wild, athletic competition. That was fun occasionally, but there had to be more for a relationship to last than hot monkey sex. My smile spread slightly. This month was supposed to be about us discovering each other and looking for the spark that causes two to become one, not banging our brains out all the time.

Today had been a good day. I'd discovered some things about her I liked and admired, things we could use as anchors to build a relationship on. I took another sip of wine as I imagined my fingers lightly gliding over her smooth, warm skin as I held her close. That's what I wanted tonight, to feel her close as we made slow, easy love, strengthening and expanding the connections that were beginning to form, not engage in simple pleasures of the body.

We were only together a month, which wasn't a lot of time to discover if Sage was the one I'd been looking for. I didn't want to miss this window of discovery by having my mind clouded by, admittedly, the best sex I'd ever had. I felt another smile pulling at my lips. I might want to slow down a little, but when I was in the mood for some hot and wild monkey sex, Sage had proven she was more than up to the challenge.